Dicionário de Favelas Marielle Franco

Urbanismo Miliciano in Rio de Janeiro: mudanças entre as edições

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<p style="text-align: justify;">In a city where the constant fear of violence and consequent value of security have determined housing patterns of the middle and upper classes, we must consider how sectors lower on the social ladder seek the same standards. The viability of these real estate ventures also has to do with access to informal forms of credit and payment in installments, given the impossibility of accessing formal mortgage markets. The comparatively low cost of housing in the informal market also reflects the absence of both public mechanisms to control land values and public policy regarding social housing. Relying on the market as the only regulatory mechanism leads to spatial segregation, pushing affordable housing towards the urban periphery with lower costs and quality. Anthropologist Teresa Caldeira has highlighted the relationship between the illegal private security market, death squads, and the privatization of public space and ways of living. The same search for security that delineated the fortified enclaves of the elite in gated neighborhoods throughout Brazil now manifests in Rio’s favelas. The inhabitants who choose to buy a home in a building built illegally in a favela choose to pay the cost of daily control over their lives, as well as the extra fees to live in a seemingly safe and predictable place—even when, as happened in Muzema, torrential rains expose buildings’ poor construction quality and the state of constant vulnerability residents unprotected by the law must face. In addition to mourning their dead, many of the survivors of the collapse lost their economic investment and had to return to live with other relatives or friends in favelas in remote areas. Furthermore, the milícias control a large part of the housing complexes built by the federal social housing plan known as Minha Casa, Minha Vida. This project conceived the new popular neighborhoods in the image of gated middle-class condominiums. The milícias have forcibly interfered in these areas with the offer of private security, authoritatively organizing other dimensions of residents’ daily life. This cycle of violence dangerously degrades basic human rights principles and the democratic order itself. Undoubtedly, the presence of organized crime in the development of urban informality in Rio is as old as the city itself. We do not intend to argue against informality. The ways popular sectors access the city have always involved informal mechanisms. Historically, as Rafael Soares Gonçalves has argued, the origin and consolidation of the favelas were linked to the informalization of the real estate market through laws and urban codes that illegalized alternative forms of occupation and land tenure. In that way, informality is an urban planning regime through which the most impoverished sectors have achieved access to housing and the city itself. The precariousness of the rights and the vulnerability of favelas inhabitants—a product of the lack of official recognition of their existence—resulted in multiple political arrangements between residents, speculators, and local politicians, which in turn led to the formation and consolidation of these settlements, as Gonçalves, historian Brodwyn Fischer, and others have demonstrated. Although historically informality in the favelas has produced practices linked to organized crime and abuse, even in connection with public authorities, the current situation marks a qualitative change. The actions of the milícias represent a new dimension of the activities of parastate groups, whose central feature is precisely the exploitation of urban resources without clear forms of control by the state or local associations. Their presence in public power structures makes it highly likely that they will continue to establish themselves in key places of the state—at the local, state, and federal levels—and within urban space by selling their services, intimidating, and increasingly militarizing Rio’s geography.</p>  
<p style="text-align: justify;">In a city where the constant fear of violence and consequent value of security have determined housing patterns of the middle and upper classes, we must consider how sectors lower on the social ladder seek the same standards. The viability of these real estate ventures also has to do with access to informal forms of credit and payment in installments, given the impossibility of accessing formal mortgage markets. The comparatively low cost of housing in the informal market also reflects the absence of both public mechanisms to control land values and public policy regarding social housing. Relying on the market as the only regulatory mechanism leads to spatial segregation, pushing affordable housing towards the urban periphery with lower costs and quality. Anthropologist Teresa Caldeira has highlighted the relationship between the illegal private security market, death squads, and the privatization of public space and ways of living. The same search for security that delineated the fortified enclaves of the elite in gated neighborhoods throughout Brazil now manifests in Rio’s favelas. The inhabitants who choose to buy a home in a building built illegally in a favela choose to pay the cost of daily control over their lives, as well as the extra fees to live in a seemingly safe and predictable place—even when, as happened in Muzema, torrential rains expose buildings’ poor construction quality and the state of constant vulnerability residents unprotected by the law must face. In addition to mourning their dead, many of the survivors of the collapse lost their economic investment and had to return to live with other relatives or friends in favelas in remote areas. Furthermore, the milícias control a large part of the housing complexes built by the federal social housing plan known as Minha Casa, Minha Vida. This project conceived the new popular neighborhoods in the image of gated middle-class condominiums. The milícias have forcibly interfered in these areas with the offer of private security, authoritatively organizing other dimensions of residents’ daily life. This cycle of violence dangerously degrades basic human rights principles and the democratic order itself. Undoubtedly, the presence of organized crime in the development of urban informality in Rio is as old as the city itself. We do not intend to argue against informality. The ways popular sectors access the city have always involved informal mechanisms. Historically, as Rafael Soares Gonçalves has argued, the origin and consolidation of the favelas were linked to the informalization of the real estate market through laws and urban codes that illegalized alternative forms of occupation and land tenure. In that way, informality is an urban planning regime through which the most impoverished sectors have achieved access to housing and the city itself. The precariousness of the rights and the vulnerability of favelas inhabitants—a product of the lack of official recognition of their existence—resulted in multiple political arrangements between residents, speculators, and local politicians, which in turn led to the formation and consolidation of these settlements, as Gonçalves, historian Brodwyn Fischer, and others have demonstrated. Although historically informality in the favelas has produced practices linked to organized crime and abuse, even in connection with public authorities, the current situation marks a qualitative change. The actions of the milícias represent a new dimension of the activities of parastate groups, whose central feature is precisely the exploitation of urban resources without clear forms of control by the state or local associations. Their presence in public power structures makes it highly likely that they will continue to establish themselves in key places of the state—at the local, state, and federal levels—and within urban space by selling their services, intimidating, and increasingly militarizing Rio’s geography.</p>  
= Illuminating Resistance =
= Illuminating Resistance =
<p style="text-align: justify;">Unlike other Brazilian cities, such as the case of Porto Alegre or São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro has not developed a tradition of partisan urban management in recent years. In the case of Rio, the Left’s relative weakness at the municipal and state levels has to do, among other reasons, with the history of brizolismo associated with Leonel Brizola and the lack of Workers’ Party (PT) roots within municipal policy. The 1982 election of Leonel Brizola of the Democratic Labor Party (PDT) as governor of the state of Rio de Janeiro deeply influenced Rio politics. A national politician, Brizola represented the labor legacy of varguismo—the ideology associated with nationalist president Getúlio Vargas—in the years after the return to democracy. As Gonçalves and Bryan McCann have shown, Brizola pioneered large-scale urban interventions in the favelas and reorganized public education in the state by democratizing access for all social sectors. At the same time, he openly questioned police violence and rejected&nbsp; mão dura or iron fist policies against crime, which garnered criticism from middle-class sectors, who withdrew their support. Among Brizola’s legacies are the strong influence he exerted on the Left in Rio and in the formation of a whole generation of local politicians who, after the breakup of the PDT, migrated to other parties. Unlike other left-wing parties, such as the PT or more recently the PSOL, whose social bases are predominantly middle-class, Brizola’s PDT represented the last left party with deep popular grassroots foundations in Rio de Janeiro. The issue of violence in Rio de Janeiro, especially as the drug trafficking boom dominated public debate in the city and the state’s political agenda, impeded the potential for a more reformist leftist movement of the masses. More recently, the protests that took to the streets in 2013 against rising transportation costs and the corruption associated with organizing the Olympic Games produced political disenchantment in an era of economic and institutional crisis that would help lead to the impeachment of former president Dilma Rousseff. New dramatic levels of violence against the poor, injustice, and impunity paled attempts to expand rights to the city. PT initiatives reduced social inequalities, but they did not question the ongoing neoliberal project. Like a house of cards, the government abandoned many of the historical struggles for urban reform, especially after extreme right-wing president Jair Bolsonaro came to power. Despite his neoliberal agenda and heavy military presence in popular neighborhoods, Bolsonaro achieved strong support in these spaces. Widespread fear of urban violence, anger against corruption in all political parties—including the PT—and a moral discourse from Evangelical churches and the more conservative sectors of the Catholic Church fed this dynamic. Despite the current profound political crisis putting Brazil’s very democracy at risk, a new generation of more combative politicians, particularly women of color, is emerging. Although she was elected with the traditional vote of the progressive middle class, Marielle Franco of the PSOL inaugurated a new way of performing as a city counselor by enacting grassroots policy in popular neighborhoods, including areas controlled by the milícia. The attempt to silence Marielle propelled new figures to enter the political scene, with many of her direct advisors winning office as state and federal legislators in the 2018 elections. Like Marielle, they are women, Black, and favela dwellers, and they carry the political practices of the city to many popular spaces. This year, the champion samba school Mangueira honored Marielle in its lyrics, placing her within a pantheon of popular heroes who resisted oppression—from the enslaved Muslims, known as malês, who revolted and their leader Luísa Mahin to all the common, invisible “Marias” of Brazil engaged in everyday struggles. They concluded by calling the country to listen to the minorities it has long silenced: “Brasil, chegou a vez / De ouvir as Marias, Mahins, Marielles, malês.”</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Unlike other Brazilian cities, such as the case of Porto Alegre or São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro has not developed a tradition of partisan urban management in recent years. In the case of Rio, the Left’s relative weakness at the municipal and state levels has to do, among other reasons, with the history of brizolismo associated with Leonel Brizola and the lack of Workers’ Party (PT) roots within municipal policy. The 1982 election of Leonel Brizola of the Democratic Labor Party (PDT) as governor of the state of Rio de Janeiro deeply influenced Rio politics. A national politician, Brizola represented the labor legacy of varguismo—the ideology associated with nationalist president Getúlio Vargas—in the years after the return to democracy. As Gonçalves and Bryan McCann have shown, Brizola pioneered large-scale urban interventions in the favelas and reorganized public education in the state by democratizing access for all social sectors. At the same time, he openly questioned police violence and rejected&nbsp; mão dura or iron fist policies against crime, which garnered criticism from middle-class sectors, who withdrew their support. Among Brizola’s legacies are the strong influence he exerted on the Left in Rio and in the formation of a whole generation of local politicians who, after the breakup of the PDT, migrated to other parties. Unlike other left-wing parties, such as the PT or more recently the PSOL, whose social bases are predominantly middle-class, Brizola’s PDT represented the last left party with deep popular grassroots foundations in Rio de Janeiro. The issue of violence in Rio de Janeiro, especially as the drug trafficking boom dominated public debate in the city and the state’s political agenda, impeded the potential for a more reformist leftist movement of the masses. More recently, the protests that took to the streets in 2013 against rising transportation costs and the corruption associated with organizing the Olympic Games produced political disenchantment in an era of economic and institutional crisis that would help lead to the impeachment of former president Dilma Rousseff. New dramatic levels of violence against the poor, injustice, and impunity paled attempts to expand rights to the city. PT initiatives reduced social inequalities, but they did not question the ongoing neoliberal project. Like a house of cards, the government abandoned many of the historical struggles for urban reform, especially after extreme right-wing president Jair Bolsonaro came to power. Despite his neoliberal agenda and heavy military presence in popular neighborhoods, Bolsonaro achieved strong support in these spaces. Widespread fear of urban violence, anger against corruption in all political parties—including the PT—and a moral discourse from Evangelical churches and the more conservative sectors of the Catholic Church fed this dynamic. Despite the current profound political crisis putting Brazil’s very democracy at risk, a new generation of more combative politicians, particularly women of color, is emerging. Although she was elected with the traditional vote of the progressive middle class, Marielle Franco of the PSOL inaugurated a new way of performing as a city counselor by enacting grassroots policy in popular neighborhoods, including areas controlled by the milícia. The attempt to silence Marielle propelled new figures to enter the political scene, with many of her direct advisors winning office as state and federal legislators in the 2018 elections. Like Marielle, they are women, Black, and favela dwellers, and they carry the political practices of the city to many popular spaces. This year, the champion samba school Mangueira honored Marielle in its lyrics, placing her within a pantheon of popular heroes who resisted oppression—from the enslaved Muslims, known as malês, who revolted and their leader Luísa Mahin to all the common, invisible “Marias” of Brazil engaged in everyday struggles. They concluded by calling the country to listen to the minorities it has long silenced: “Brasil, chegou a vez / De ouvir as Marias, Mahins, Marielles, malês.”</p>
[[Category:Temática - Urbanização]][[Category:Milícia]]
Disponível em “https://homologacao2.wikifavelas.com.br/index.php/Urbanismo_Miliciano_in_Rio_de_Janeiro”